The Debut
by Malinkibelka
Summary: Queen Allura wants to impose 'traditional' Arusian customs on her niece, Lady Larmina. It will be a clash of old and new Arus. Both Arusian royals will recieve lessons in family, new traditions and romantic love before the story ends. K/A & P/L...
1. Chapter 1

There's nothing very loud music cannot fix. Usually.

'I can't freakin' believe this!'

Larmina growled in her darkend bedroom and shoved the first pillow that had the misfortune of being in range of her rage. She couldn't get the breakfast conversation with 'Auntie Dearest' out of her mind, despite how loud she tried to crank up her digital music player. Her aunt's words replayed in a continuous loop in Larmina's head.

"A debutante ball has been a tradition of all Arusian royalty...a very special moment, to announce..."

Larmina smirked, savoring the feeling of cutting of her aunt in mid-nostalgic delusion.

"…..to announce I'm on the market like a piece of meat. Today up for grabs in the BIG, FAT ARUSIAN SPECTACLE is Lady Larmina! Larmina is quite a fighter but you're all here for her very big…"

Larmina laughed aloud when she remembered the look on Auntie's face when she turned around, stuck out her chest, implying that her body language was attempting to complete her sentence.

"Very BIG Title…I can't even remember half of it."

Allura's mouth contorted, trying to muster the words to nip Larmina's tirade and anticipated vulgarity, but the younger royal was far from finished. Raising her fork in the air like a scepter, Larmina got up from the lovely and completely ruined breakfast and began to sashay around the table. "Wait, am I doing this the right way? They kicked me out of finishing school before we got to the 'Get-Yourself-A-Prince' walk!"

The conversation eroded exponentially from that point, just as nearly every recent conversation between the two last living members of the ruling house of Arus.

"I don't recall asking you", Allura icily replied. The exhausted queen plucked her napkin out of her lap and deposited it firmly upon the table, never breaking her gaze across the table at the younger princess-the strawberry blonde defiant teenager glaring back at her. "Arus needs a return to its traditions, a semblance of what makes us 'Arusian'. You and I, Larmina, this Castle..." Allura raised her hands in a sweeping gesture to encompass the sunlit dining room and the modern Castle of Lions beyond, "and the secrets of Voltron ...we are probably the only ties Arus has to our proud past. There are ..."

So it began.-the litany of traditions that Queen Allura, one of last of the heirs of King Alfor, went on to describe that fell on deaf ears. Allura began to name the beautiful queens of Arus, their courts, the legends, the noble knights. Yet, just a few feet away across the table, all Larmina heard was..._blah, blah, blah, stuffy tradition, blah blah blah, I SAID SO, blah blah blah, PRINCES, blah blah blah expectations_.

The E-Word. Just thinking of the word made Larmina shudder and search for another pillow to launch. She hated that one more than any of them.

Expectations.

'Your mother loved such traditions, Larmina. She would tell me the stories of the times before war. The pageantry, the dresses, the..."

This called for another pillow.

_Yeah, play the dead mother card, Auntie…_

"..the way you can kiss my butt..". At that point Larmina bolted upright from the table pushing the breakfast plate forward and the chair back with one swift and simultaneous move. How dare she speak of her mother as if she knew Queen Orla better than her own daughter? Just the very thought of her Allura intruding on this sacred space enraged Larmina.

"YOU aren't my mother. " With this observation, Larmina left the room leaving an unfinished breakfast, a flustered Queen and a slightly bemused royal advisor in her wake.

By leaving the breakfast too soon, she had missed the frustrated queen spitting verbal venom into a coffee cup.

After several minutes of allowing the queen to wrangle her ward on her own, the completely forgotten third party in the room took a bemused sip from his coffee and set down the cup with a deliberate _clink_ onto its matched saucer. The royal advisor could not resist the opportunity to voice the obvious.

"I think that went rather well, compared to prior incidents." Coran dabbed his thick and now greying moustache with the corner of a crisp cloth napkin that had previously occupied his lap. Years of diplomacy and protocol could not temper the memories of another royal Arusian female's antics. Countless reminders, interventions …spankings...

No good.

However, the current Arusian female in question was not in his direct charge. Now the royal Arusian that caused him many sleepless nights, many strong drinks and a few headaches found herself in charge of another headstrong royal protégée .

During his studies at the Academy many years ago, Coran had learned about ancient Terran religions that believed in a concept called karma. _Ah, yes! Karma! A fascinating concept!_ Coran thought to himself as he finished the remnant of his coffee. _The fruits of cause and effect ...reaping the harvest that one has sown from his or HER action in the past. Professor Denare would be proud! I just found it here on Arus! _

He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped his lips.

Allura's head snapped around to face Coran."What could be so humorous at a time like this, Coran?"

Coran got up from the breakfast table. "Nothing at all, your highness" keeping his newly found insight on ancient Terran religions to himself. "If you will excuse me, I fortuitously have a large backlog of security audits to conduct this morning."

Allura curtly nodded to her most trusted advisor as he left the dining room. Years of measuring the timing of his stride told her the precise moment when she could finally let loose a few words she'd heard Lance use on special occasions.


	2. Chapter 2

"So many lines, so many great houses…"

A bright light filled the dark compartment. The monitor that filled the entirety of one wall sprang to life in a genesis of gold streaks that rose from the lower frame of the screen and began to fracture in various points, like lightning filling the night sky.

Or perhaps not lightning at all, but a tree…

The fracturing continued. At first glance, it would seem to be completely random—this blossoming of golden branches quickly taking over the black screen of the monitor. But upon a closer look, one would see dents in the branches of the 'tree' and flickers of dates and names.

There was certainly more to this 'tree' than a mere picture. A tapestry of fickle fate, fortunes and tragedy wove itself before the indifferent eyes of the lone occupant of the chamber. No closer inspection was needed; she knew every trace and shape of this tree.

"But it all had to end…and what a glorious end it was…"

And as rapid and brilliant the fracturing had been, it ground to a jarring stop. Some sort of catastrophic threshold had been reached-Something terrible, consuming and with mercy given to none.

But even in the darkest, most desperate hours, hope prevails.

It was as if the tree held some memory of its former momentum. Defiant little tendrils, not nearly as strong as their ancestors but rising in hope, dared to move on.

The audacity of those few hopeful survivors inspired a furious slap to the face of the console.

The screen went black.

The sudden darkness of the room was pierced by a cold, metallic hiss and a whisper.

"The culling of Arus will be completed."


	3. Chapter 3

She could become accustomed to the infrequent encounters, the precedence of the mission and the ever-present disaster du jour.

It was the indifference that was killing her.

After the shouting match called a breakfast was over, Allura tried seeking solace in her work. A few memorandums, decrees, agreements. She plodded through the litany of requests. Anything to keep her mind off the office across the hall.

Not exactly the office itself, but its occupant.

It seemed she had fled one heated conflict for the cold of another. Her office offered little refuge.

From her side of the command suite corridor, Allura could see the short crop of Keith's jet black hair cresting over the top of the thickly upholstered office chair like a diligent raven perched on a stone wall. The tap of his fingers on his keyboard assured he was currently oblivious to the lingering presence outside his office door. Whereas most of the desks in the Castle of Lions had the latest in holo-technology components, the commander had insisted in an actual keyboard. Perhaps it was a practical choice based on system security or maybe it was a sentimental whim that reminded him of pounding out term papers on battlespace intelligence at the Academy. Whatever his motivation to challenge the Castle staff to procure the vintage item, she would never know. Despite the fact that they shared the only two offices in the newly constructed Command Suite, they hardly spoke anymore.

_I can negotiate peace treaties between sworn enemies, but I can't make the first step to reach him._

This silent routine had become the accepted norm. Keith Kogane had spent five years undercover searching for the Denubian Galaxy and beyond in an nearly impossible mission to find the missing key to the Black Lion. Despite how warm his return to the Force had been, the recent months had seen a peculiar detachment of Voltron Force Commander from his team.

A few echoes of Daniel's laughter and Vince's voice from Control wandered down the Command Suite corridor and bounced off the neo-Gothic arches that made up the length of the corridor. The lonely queen welcomed the sound. It was a connection to living. For the first time in hours, she did not feel completely alone in the Castle. Even if the commander of the Voltron Force sat only a few meters of polished grey marble away, he was as far away as the Second Sun.

A resigned sigh was all Allura could muster. Something deep down inside of her wanted nothing more than to run through that open door, wrap her arms around him and make everything right again. But she knew she was not allowed—there was no connection any longer that would warrant such intimacy. His cold gaze and detachment from her and the rest of the team was palpable. He was present, giving commands and doing his duty. He just wasn't there anymore. The Keith that set out to find the proverbial needle in the haystack that was the missing key to the Black Lion had been replaced with this shadow that spoke with his voice and wore his black uniform.

She had been too caught up in her thoughts to notice the tapping had stopped. The 'raven' tilted ever so slightly to the left, as if straining to listen.

You don't survive sixth months undercover in a Tellurian brothel without growing a pair of eyes in the back of your head and an acute situational awareness as bounty hunters don't send calling cards. Keith was very aware someone was lurking in the hallway. And it didn't take four years of Academy Intelligence Methods for him to realize it was Allura.

The queen of Arus greatly underestimated her ability to slip below his radar.

"Allura?" The silence was now officially broken with one exasperated word.

_No, not like this…not now. _

The flustered queen tapped her datapad furiously and set out with a determined gait, as if she had not been lingering like an awkward schoolgirl outside his door for the past few minutes. No, the queen was very busy with royal matters. Too busy to be wringing her hands over getting the cold shoulder_. I AM the the sole heir of King Alfor, and the last of my line. This is MY castle, and I may stand wherever I damned well please. _

Half-way down the hall.

_And should the queen not care about the welfare of the commander of her first and best line of defense?_

Despite this affirmation, she was now determined to be well beyond the range of his perception, no matter how many miles that could be.

_Whom are you fooling, Allura? Since when has Keith been just 'the commander'?_

Anyone who crossed her path would only see a queen caught up in a demanding affair of State; they would not see the woman adrift in sea of despair.

Unfortunately, that woman would not see them.

A jolt. An unlucky courtier scrambled for an apology for daring to occupy the same space the datapad-distracted queen had veered into.

She could feel her failure burn across her cheeks. An apology spilled out of her lips but her heart wasn't in it. It was too busy breaking. Her head was spinning, her pulse pounding in her ears. Her feet were eager to get back to their prior mission.

"Your Highness, I believe you dropped this?"

Allura shook her head and searched for the right words.

_Say something, Allura! For the first time today, someone is trying to help you!_

The courtier handed the datapad back to the beleaguered queen as she shook her head. Perhaps the collision had been a good thing. She was reconnecting with world beyond her despair—back to where a good queen should be.

"Thank you, kind sir. You have saved me from losing yet another datapad this week!"

Allura took the datapad from the polite man, and gave him the best smile she could muster. She clutched the datapad to her chest as she continued her course.

She needed to go where someone would listen. Even if her heart wanted to be back in that hallway staring at that raven hair, her head told her feet where to go to find a sympathetic ear.


	4. Chapter 4

"I love you…"

Hunk whispered softly, his eyes cast downward.

"I've waited for you for so long."

Pidge looked up from his cup of green tea, rolled his eyes and took another sip.

"…three minutes and forty seconds on fifty percent power. I watched you, bubbling in the oven, so hot, so perfect…and now you are mine."

"Dude! Are you going to eat that burrito or get down on one knee?" Lance shook his head and put his plate in the sink.

Another lunch in the Mancave.

In a past life, this room had been designated the East Ready Room. At some point in the reconstruction of the Castle of Lions, the essential technical functions of the castle were relocated to Castle Control. With its official function lost in the redesign, the room was claimed by a few members of the Voltron Force. And the room's evolution began—a kitchenette, one 'lucky couch' that no one aside from Lance dared to sit on for implied reasons, a custom naugahyde recliner flown in from Earth at great personal expense to Hunk, A Baltan chess table and a few posters of scantily-clad women clutching power tools, also flown in from Earth at great personal expense to Hunk. This pinnacle of this evolution was 'The Mancave'. The room was as unique as its occupants with its own set of norms and rules. Dress code: Shoes and pants optional, except for Hunk.

The reasons for this were well-known to the Mancave club, and remained strictly classified.

The exclusive privacy of the Mancave offered a place for the team to leave the uniform and ranks at the door and unwind. They talked about everything, and at other times they talked about nothing at all. It was a place they could simply be themselves.

And this privacy allowed the perfect place to reveal a secret.

As Lance McClain sat back down at the table, he produced a small datapad from an inner pocket of his trademark leather bomber jacket and held it out for his two confidantes.

The sight of the slim datapad drew a whistle of admiration from Hunk and a surprised blink from Pidge.

"I have the brawn, you have the brain, let's just take a little walk on the Allura side. What do you say, Pidge?"

Lance placed the pink hand-held device on the table and coyly slid it across the table with one finger to the young genius.

Hunk blew lightly onto his steaming hot burrito as he watched the illicit proceedings with great interest. News that Allura had lost her personal datapad had been known to the team, given the possible threat to security a missing piece of tech could pose to the Castle's data networks. Speculation ranging from Arus TMZ to Doom operatives had been making the rounds in the Castle Rumor Networks. To see it again relieved their fears of a security breach but also inspired a little curiosity.

"How did you score that little nugget?" Hunk asked.

"That's strictly classified information, Tech Sergeant Garrett. I would have to kill you or take your burrito if I told you", Lance quipped.

"When do you plan to return the datapad to Allura?"

"Return? Oh, I'll get right on that. But first…" Lance tapped the smooth surface of the datapad, and the dark screen came to life.

Pidge raised an eyebrow at the smug lieutenant. "I don't know, Lance. We shouldn't snoop into her..."

The Red Lion Pilot assumed the authority of the officer he truly was but never opted to be. "Tsk tsk tsk, Tech Sergeant Stoker! Did you not, just last week, brief the team in securing communication devices- lest they be stolen and gleaned for their intelligence value by the enemy?"

"You were actually awake for that?"

Lance snorted. "No, but Keith takes great notes!" He winked and continued. "I hate to report this, but seeing as everyone is a security officer—your words not mine, my man- Keith circled that so it must have been important.." Pidge scowled at the inference that his briefings were anything but fascinating. "Anyway, our not-so-vigilant queen was napping in your security briefing too, OBVIOUSLY, or she would never have left her datapad and an empty bottle of merlot on a lounge chair on the west terrace last night." Lance's eyes darted around the room as if those operatives Pidge had warned against were hanging on his every word somewhere in a covert listening station. "Gentlemen, we have a breach of security here and quite possibly a hangover."

Pidge's green eyes narrowed behind the green lenses he favored to keep the constant glare of computer monitors from destroying his delicate Baltan eyesight. He picked up the 'missing' datapad between two fingers as if it were a deadly contaminated specimen.

"Given the color and ", Pidge gave the access ports and the markings of the pink datapad a quick inspection and frowned, "..its cute processing power, it's not standard issue. The only thing this technology, for lack of a better word, is good for is watching cat videos."

"HEY! What's wrong with cat videos?" Hunk quipped between molten bites of cheese and bean nirvana.

Pidge exhaled. "Did I say there was anything WRONG with cat videos?"

"You didn't have to. Your left nostril flared a little bit. That's your Judgmental Nostril."

"My left nostril is not sentient, Hunk. It's just a…"

"Ladies!" Lance snagged the reader back from Pidge's hands. "Argue over Pidge's facial quirks later. We've got a mission here!"

"Finding the video of Arus' cutest kitten is not a _mission_, Lance. Not worth my time nor a compromise of my ethics."

"Oh, I see." Lance scoffed and mimicked the inspection Pidge had just performed on the datapad without the slightest notion of what he was supposed to be looking for. He gave a few of the ports a random poke with his index finger. Very technical.

_McClain, you know the card to play here. _

"Eh, you probably couldn't hack 'My Little Datapad' here anyway", Lance replied, knowing he was striking a blow to Pidge's technical prowess. "These cat video devices are very technical and probably beyond your..."

"Give me the damn thing", Pidge hissed and snatched the device back from the smirking lieutenant. Of course, Pidge knew that he was falling for Lance's social engineering ploy. But the Green Lion pilot could not stand for the slight on his tech-ninja reputation.

"Well played, Lieutenant." Hunk saluted Lance with a steaming forkful of burrito.

"Time me!" Pidge produced a small drive device from his uniform pocket and plugged it into an open port on the reader device.

Lance grinned over his shoulder to Hunk. Perhaps Lance didn't have Keith's rank or commanding presence, but he knew what made his team members tick. He had the intuitive genius of a born leader; he knew precisely how to motivate his subordinates.

Pidge appeared to be genuinely surprised when a small beep signaled hacking success. "That didn't take very long."

"That's what she said!" Hunk cracked as he finished off his burrito.

"THAT trite presumption of sexual prowess was old even back at the Academy." Pidge shot back, his attention never leaving the datapad as the boot-up processes activated. "And in the case of Baltans—it's completely inaccurate. Allura's password needs to be more complex. It was much too easy to crack."

Lance raised an eyebrow in disbelief. He briefly considered asking Pidge to elaborate on the Baltan prowess comment, but perhaps there were some things the red lion pilot didn't want to know about his teammates. He opted to concentrate on the matter at-hand.

"I guess 'I want lance's hot body' was too obvious." Lance replied as he maneuvered himself behind Pidge to shoulder-surf.

Pidge shrugged off Lance's remark. "Whatever. The password was much shorter-only nine characters. I can run the hash if you want, and then we could..."

"Just get to the good stuff." Lance answered.

"Arus's cutest kitten coming up..." A flurry of keystrokes. "..in 3-2-1!"

The keystrokes abruptly stopped. "That's no kitten."

Hunk leaned further in, shielding a new forkful of molten burrito from spilling over onto his lap.

Lance's usual smirk was replaced with a genuine squint of curiosity. Pidge cocked his head slightly to take in the image of the character that was rendered on the hacked datapad. A moment of awkward silence lingered over the room as both thief and hacker pondered the spoils of their efforts—and perhaps wishing they hadn't bothered.

It was Pidge who first spoke to voice the obvious.

"You know, he looks like Kmmmmth." Pidge was cut off in mid-observation by Lance's index finger pressing his lips shut.

"NO! Don't even say it. I don't need the mental picture of our commander looking like a Dradin Medieval Times reject burned into my head. There's not enough brain bleach to get rid of that. What the hell is this anyway? "

Pidge picked the reader up and held it at arm's length, the contents of the datapad now justifying the contaminated specimen treatment. The testosterone sanctity of the Mancave was now soiled by the presence of the sappy romance novel rendered in a reader application on the datapad. With a tentative double tap, the cover page illustration filled the monitor of the reader. A buxom, young woman with long golden hair and a flowing, flimsy nightgown was in the embrace of a dark-haired young man in a linen tunic, conveniently open to expose his chiseled chest.

"It's called 'Rhapsody of the Dark Night'. Strange, it doesn't look like a music book."

Hunk smirked through the cheesy explosion in his mouth. From across the table, he couldn't help noticing the nearly identical expression of disgusted curiosity on Lance and Pidge's faces.

Pidge cleared his throat. "Is our walk on the Allura-side almost over, Lance?"

"Oh, nay nay, my friend! We've come too far to turn back now."

"Damn all the hells! I knew you were going to say that." Pidge reluctantly opened the virtual novel to a saved bookmark.

It was the most bizarre literature reading to ever take place in the Castle of Lions, perhaps on Planet Arus in its entirety.

Mustering what dignity he could, Pidge cleared his throat again and began to read aloud.

"They stood, standing above the churning ocean on the rocky cliff." Pidge hissed. "SERIOUSLY? This is a professional writer?"

"Oh, tech genius and literary critic? Just keep reading!" Lance nudged Pidge and feigned an intense interest.

Pidge continued flatly. "The dark warrior held the demure princess close to him. Her rosy lips beckoned to him-a forbidden fruit he must not taste. Yet, he could not turn away from what she offered him: solace, salvation, and yes, love."

"I think I'm gonna be sick", Hunk remarked, putting down the burrito.

For a moment, Pidge considered lobbing the 'that's what she said' grenade back to Hunk. But Pidge knew that the dramatic contents of this story were far more effective Hunk-Torture than a too-brief, worn-out jab. As much as he loved his former Academy roommate and best friend, the pained expression on Hunk's face was just too good for Pidge to stop.

"He knew it was time. Time for the two of them, the princess and her knight, to explore their love." A quick roll of his green eyes and a gagging gesture, and Pidge continued. "She was his prize. She beckoned to him with her eyes. His throbbing…"

A choke of hysterical laughter erupted. Pidge struggled to regain his composure. _People actually read this jalekya_?

"Come on, don't leave us hanging!" Hunk seized the edge of the table in mock suspense.

Pidge nearly choked on more giggles, gasping for breath and wondering if his friend had intended that particular play of words.

The shrill jingle of laughter prompted a curious look from Lance. He had never seen the young intellectual completely lose his disciplined bearing like this.

"His throbbing _manhood _answered."

Lance wasn't ready to hear the same voice that delivered the Castle's Security briefings that drove him to the verge of narcolepsy detail the illicit tryst of the knight and the 'fictional' golden-haired princess. He reclaimed custody the reader with a curt "OKAY WE'RE DONE..."

"HEY! What did you do that for?" Pidge smirked. "I was just getting to the good stuff."

"Pidge, as your superior officer, I cannot stand idly by and have your mind corrupted by this complete filth of unattainable romantic expectations. You will never make a woman feel this way. This is for your own…"

The ring of the Mancave doorbell cut Lance off.

Actually, the doorbell barked. The sounds of a furious Rottweiler filled the hallway and the Mancave. On the other side of the door, Allura rolled her eyes at Hunk's most recent 'security upgrade'.

Perhaps there were some regents who might scoff at the notion of a ringing a doorbell in their own castle, however Allura wasn't like most nobility. The occupants of this room were more than just random of Galaxy Alliance soldiers on-station. They were the heart and soul of her home world's defense. And they, along with Coran, were the closest thing she had to family.

As much as she loved this family, she often felt like the princess in the Terran legend of the Snow White, the orphaned young woman surrounded by an assortment of lively little beings with names corresponding to their emotions or personality quirks. _Grumpy-why yes! Larmina! Hunk could be Happy, Vince could be Bashful and… _

Tucking the reader securely back in his jacket, Lance answered the door.

Allura gave Lance a wary smile.

_And here we have Smartass dwarf…_

The wary queen mustered the strength to put on a brave face. The fire of the argument with Larmina and the coldness of Keith had completely drained her, but she wasn't going to let it show. She would save that release for her shower tonight.

Tears aren't noticeable in a steamy, lonely shower.

"Good morning, Lance!" Allura cheerfully quipped as the door slid open. "I trust you and the guys had a restful night?"

"Well, I certainly did. But, I'm afraid Pidge had a THROBBING headache."

Hunk's attempt to not choke on his molten burrito failed miserably. Pidge glared daggers at the smirking Red Lion pilot and mouthed a curse in Baltan.

"Oh, I know what you mean about throbbing headaches, Pidge", Allura replied as she stepped into the Mancave, blissfully unaware the reaction her words were causing. Hunk's reaction was escalating into catastrophic levels with each word, and he quickly escaped back into the kitchenette to hide the laughter brewing in his barrel chest.

Lance began to stammer a reminder about the 'no estrogen' policy in the Mancave, but from the miserable look on her face and the pain in her voice, he decided to make an exception.

"Larmina and I had an oh-so-lovely breakfast." Allura pained smile affirmed the sarcasm in her remark.

Pidge's eyes narrowed. The arguments of the royal women had become the stuff of legends in the Castle lately.

"Is everything okay, Allura?"

"Honestly? No." Allura winced and looked around the room. "I know it's the Mancave, but may a teammate who just happens to be a female ask for an exception?"

Hunk patted an adjacent barstool and reached for a can of the particular Terran concoction that Allura had acquired a fondness for out of the refurbished 'Wade-bot' refrigerator on the wall behind him. The Arusian queen accepted the can of root beer as if it were the finest vintage of wine.

"Ah! Hunk, you know how to make a girl happy!"

Despite being the most physically intimidating member of the team, his smile was the warmest and most genuine of anyone she knew. He flashed it at Allura as they toasted each other with their respective beverages.

She then realized she had come to the right place to vent. The natural cordiality of Hunk's smile eased the grip of her worries.

"You know, people all over Arus are willing to do whatever I ask. But my own niece won't listen to a damned word I say."

Lance folded his arms. "I have no idea where she gets that stubbornness from."

Allura sighed. "That's what Coran said!"

Hunk, ever the team unofficial 'team counselor' tilted his head in concern. "What exactly did you ask her?"

"I asked her to observe an Arusian tradition. That's all."

"Oh, Larmina didn't listen to you either? I'm sensing a trend here." Pidge quipped, sliding the hacking drive coolly back into his uniform pocket. "I've asked her to finish the Physics final assignment from last week. I'm still waiting."

"She is so immature, too selfish." Another exasperated sigh. "I should have done something sooner. I've let her run wild. Not like I know what I'm doing. I'm not a ..parent."

"Eh, don't give up. She's just a kid." Hunk took a swig of his root beer. It would have been a completely different sort of beer if he didn't have duty later that afternoon. "Just try again, but try making it her idea. Like you did with the Music Festival."

"That's not a bad idea, Hunk. I just …hoped she would be willing to do this without all the coaxing and screaming. "

Pidge took off his lenses and gave them a quick adjustment. "Good luck with that, Allura. I'd offer my services in persuasion-by- force, however Baltans are forbidden by code to use our 'motivational tactics' on unarmed combatants."

Allura watched Pidge for a moment. She had seldom, if ever, seen him without the lenses on. _He's grown up so quickly. What happened to that scared, curly-haired boy standing at the bottom of the grand staircase? _

He had become a capable young man, and a rather handsome one at that.

And at that moment, Allura had an epiphany.

"I don't need your motivational talents, Pidge. I need a completely different sort of service from you."

Pidge blinked.


End file.
